Saturday, June 20, 2009

up and over

today I climbed a small mountain.but first I battled weak muscles and a cough and little hills and wind and rain and more little hills.and more importantly, my mind.the one that said, you really can't do this. it's okay to just turn around and go home. you don't have to climb this thing, and besides, you really can't.

this is not truly my mind.I think it belongs to someone else, someone involved in a great mind-control experiment, who has access to my brain when I become tired and weakened from one cause or another. when my muscles fatigue and rob my brain of oxygen, the great experimenter slips in a substitute brain which is much less willing to support my choices.it constantly tells me of warm beds and couches and cookies.of the pointlessness of excess (meaning any) exertion.of how silly I am to think that I can speed down bike lanes and up sharply climbing roads.of how much stronger (wiser, smarter, cuter, younger) everyone else on a bike is.of how I am not really capable of powering myself up anything more steep than a speed bump.of how all of my past victories and successes are just that: past.

because there's just no reason why I would sabotage myself in this way, is there? it must be someone else messing with my head.

today I climbed up and over that steeply climbing mountain road, and down the declivitous back side. I did it in the rain and without support of my brain, as it was so obviously occupied as described above.I do believe my real brain has been returned to me, however, as I'm already planning tomorrow's ride and counting the peaks which I will conquer, with or without it.

relax your gaze

repair work

Happy Biking!

somewhere in mid-south-central utah

city creek canyon

triumphant

lunar girl

ahh . . .

rainy day feeling

turbo, my guard dog

still smiling, almost halfway through the Big Ride

trapper's loop, august 17, 2008

drowned rat at brighton

august 9, 2008

welcome to the tao of cycling

you will find here the wisdom, humor, and observations my ever-busy mind create as I ride my bicycle around our beautiful state. I am blessed to live in a perfect environment for cycling, with a handful of canyons just minutes away from my door, and my desire is that you will travel with me through some of my incredible experiences.

the Male Ego

The other day I was coming down a canyon in my drop bars (two years ago I would have said, 'what's a drop bar?'), working hard, when I came up on two guys who were also heading downhill but at a more leisurely pace. I passed them, said hello as I did so, and pulled back into the bike lane. a few minutes later they went flying past me, faces looking dead ahead, not a single bit of acknowledgment that I even existed on this planet let alone was involved in and enjoying the same sport they were.I have to attribute this to the male ego. what else can it be? now I know we all have egos, myself included. and mine even shows its ridiculous little head once in a while, or perhaps more often. but the difference between mine and say, those of certain men on bicycles, is that I KNOW mine exists and I can LAUGH at mine. I know my ego was quite excited to pass those guys, and I could also smile because I knew if the men had really been working like I was, they would have kicked my butt down the hill. I think I pissed them off.and I'm sure I will be sharing with you much more of my thoughts about the male ego . . .

About Me

Born in the 1960's in Michigan, I have spent most of my life in Utah, for which I am grateful. In fact, my life is firmly rooted in gratitude, and my cycling brings that home to me every day I ride. I am a mom, a business owner, a student of yoga (oh so far to go!), a writer, a friend, and an avid roadie. and a million other things, as we all are . . .
I am a writer practicing her craft, and have committed to posting here regularly. happy reading, and
be well!

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a little history

I was married, and I had a mountain bike which I rarely rode. we separated, I moved out, and four months later someone stole my bike. the next spring, 2005, I bought myself a new mountain bike. I rode occasionally, and in april 2006 I rode in my first century, the Cactus Hugger in St. George, Utah. I made it 54 miles on that mountain bike, and it took me about 6 hours. I think that included the rest stops where I prayed that someone would steal my bike again . . .in june 2006 I started riding my mountain bike five mornings a week, a 45-55 minute loop that was intended to be all about exercise. and what I found was that I loved the quiet, peaceful morning full of bird chatter and barely breaking sunrises. by that fall I was hooked, and began considering the purchase of a road bike. I rode up emigration canyon for the first time that Labor Day of 2006, panting and plowing along on my trusty (heavy) bike, and a month later I was the proud owner of my own road bike: I had become a two-bike girl!a 17-week-long "power camp" over the winter and a handful of new friends kept bicycling front and center in my life, and when spring of 2007 rolled around I was ready to hit the pavement. I rode my first century the end of april, when I again went to St. George and completed that Cactus Hugger. it took me about 7 hours, but this time I rode the entire 100 miles with about 9300 feet of vertical gain. woo hoo!I started riding canyons around our area, emigration and millcreek, city creek, big cottonwood, little mountain and big mountain, and once--yes, only once--little cottonwood.then in september of 2007, I rode from Logan, Utah, to Jackson, Wyoming, in the slightly infamous LOTOJA race. I rode, I did not race. and I completed the thing, crediting my good training buddies, the incredibly perfect weather, my support team, and an amazing convergence of all things positive in the universe.I put in about 3500 miles last season, and as of today, july 19, 2008, I have about 1700 in, adding to it every day.I have again signed on to ride the LOTOJA race, and my goal is to have just somewhere near as great a ride as I did last year. oh, and to have someone fun to talk with along the way as I got incredibly bored last year . . . star valley is still a nightmare scene in my biking memories . . .and here is a picture of the machine that has helped me reclaim my life.